A few weeks ago, I was trying on dresses with my dear friend Angela, shopping for things we probably would not buy and talking smack about everyone we know, carrying on the way old friends do. One of the dresses I picked out was a blue scrunchie number, the kind of gown you buy and then figure out where you will wear it later. I got it halfway on and realized the zipper was broken, and I could not get it off my body. So there I was with a dress I couldn't get down or up and after a mighty struggle for a few minutes and a thin veil of perspiration beading all over my body, I yelled for Ang and showed her my dilemma. She tried to pull it off my hips which was a no go. And so we made the decision that the only way for the cursed scrunchie to come off was over my head if I took off my bra and sucked in with all my might. Tenderhearted Ang kept saying, I don't want to hurt you and I caught a glimpse of us in the mirror and broke into a hysterical laughter which I could not control. Stuck, like so much of my life, unable to get into or out of something that seemed like such a good idea at the time and finally we got it off and both collapsed into giggles in the plush dressing room, provoking strange looks from the salesgirls.
When I was much younger, I loved going with friends to a horrible stagnant pond and throwing dog food in it at night for the fishes. We'd drink Everclear and Purple Flavor-Aid, a Jim Jones special and talk about the future, about how we were all going to be somebody. Two or three drinks in, we were really going to be somebody special, probably famous, a member of the presidential cabinet, maybe a movie star. Damn, the world was full of possibility! After we were good and wasted, we'd collect our bottles and our bag of dog food and head for home. Sometimes the truck we were riding in (most of us piled in the back -- MADD's worst fucking nightmare, no doubt) would get stuck in the mud, and we'd have to push it out. We'd be covered in it from head to toe and sometimes people would start laughing or crying. That late at night, it was hard to tell the difference.
Michelle's Spell of the Day
“Freedom is a muscle... you have to exercise it.” Roy Scheider
Cocktail Hour
Drinking movie suggestion: Jaws
Benedictions and Maledictions
Happy Monday! Congrats to my girl Amy Winehouse on the big wins last night! And rest in peace to Roy Scheider!
8 comments:
It's showtime! RIP Roy. You're great as Bob Fosse in "All That Jazz," not to mention that certain fish movie.
We could hekl;s in the change room, too. No one would see us like the Kwames.
why i go shopping i absolutely hate trying things on. the only exception is dresses. i love trying on dresses and i have many (though i rarely wear them because it is so often cold in michigan and i am not tolerant of it). I find myself wishing I had somewhere to go that would involve the glamourous evening gown I chose to try on.
I don't believe I've ever gotten stuck in clothes. I can see the humor in it, though, as long as it's not happening to me.
I loved the story about the stagnant pond and the dog food and the drinks. Growing up in the country, those kinds of nights were quite common, although for us it was always beer.
I think most people have a sense of impending greatness when they're young. Reality has not yet set in for them. <:\
Hi Dollface, When a similar fitting room incident happened to me, my dad, always quick with the wit said, "thats what ya get for tryin' to stuff 10 pounds of shit in a 5 pound bag." Go ahead--roll your eyes, I did!
My first thought was why are you in a store looking at new clothes when I doubt you ever buy anything that isn't from a re-sale rack(that's cool) Then I realized that Senora Dufus might like to go and scout out what will be on said resale rack next year.
Everclear and Grape mix, horrid upon horrid no wonder the dreams got grander as the night wore on, maybe I should try it though to see if I could re-capture the dream of being leader of the world.
Peace
mark
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